


Decorative Difficulties

by MlleMusketeer



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: Christmas Decorations, Cultural Differences, Embarrassed Optimus, Fluff, Holiday Difficulties, Implied Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-25
Updated: 2013-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-06 00:51:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1100514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MlleMusketeer/pseuds/MlleMusketeer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em> Ratchet made a mental note to give Agent Fowler a stern talking-to about human holiday traditions and how unkind it was to talk Optimus into participating. Because he would, the big softsparked glitch.</em>
</p><p>Optimus's willingness to honor human customs proves troublesome. Fortunately, Ratchet's more than willing to help out.</p><p>A gift exchange with HurricaneFoundry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Decorative Difficulties

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kemmasandi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kemmasandi/gifts).



“Ratchet?” Ratchet looked up from his workstation to see Optimus standing in the doorway, looking gravely uncomfortable. “I would be glad of your assistance, if you have time.”

“Yes, of course.” Ratchet turned around. “What is it?”

Optimus stepped further into the room, and Ratchet’s optic caught on the scrap of red organic fabric protruding between two of Optimus’s chestplates. 

“Optimus, what is this?” He tugged gently at the corner. Optimus looked down, expression shading to a mixture of amusement and...was that embarrassment? 

“A human custom, around this time of year,” he said. “While it was Miko’s idea, Agent Fowler concurred. I believe it was intended solely for my alt-mode, and I neglected to dislodge it before transforming. I had...other concerns at the time.” By which he meant the unexpected Decepticon attack on the patrolling Autobots. “I have found it very difficult to remove on my own.”

“Yes, but what _is_ it?” Other than firmly stuck. He’d managed to extract a bit more of it, but the next tug brought no result other than a twitch of discomfort from Optimus. 

“A decoration associated with the holiday,” said Optimus, and yes, that was definitely embarrassment. “It...may prove easier to remove if I am again in alt.”

“Yes, I would concur,” said Ratchet, making a mental note to give Agent Fowler a stern talking-to about human holiday traditions and how unkind it was to talk Optimus into participating. Because he would, the big softsparked glitch.

Optimus obligingly transformed, and the scrap of red fabric was revealed as a large and elaborate and much the worse for wear bow firmly secured to his grille. 

“Oh.” Ratchet shuttered his optics, and tried not to laugh. Certainly, the plush red fabric provided a pleasing counterpoint to the chrome of his grille, but it was also absolutely absurd, absurd in a way that it took a human mind to conceive of, still more so when one took into account the fact that the object was originally intended for a sparkless machine. Did they really have to decorate _everything_?

“I fear I have damaged it somewhat,” said Optimus, sounding concerned, and this time it took even more effort not to laugh. Ratchet pressed the back of a hand over his intake until he’d repressed the smile. 

Optimus knew him too well. There was a resigned huff of vents, and he settled down onto his wheels. “It is not necessary to repress your amusement, old friend,” he said. “I am responsible for getting myself into this situation.”

“After considerable convincing from the humans, no doubt,” said Ratchet, and peered at the decoration. It took some time to locate the fastening, a filament of wire encased in polymers, and Ratchet let out a resigned huff of his own when he spotted it. Perfectly scaled for human hands, impossibly tiny for any Cybertronian, even Arcee. 

“Stay there,” said Ratchet, and went for his finest forceps.  

Optimus’s much vaunted patience was well and truly tested, and he remained both still and calm long past the point when Ratchet began remarking on human idiocy in less-than-polite terms. It hardly helped that Ratchet was well aware (through long experience) of the sensitivity of a number of components hidden just behind the grille of Optimus’s alt, and was accordingly strongly reminded that there were a number of _other_ things they could be doing, none of which involved the fallout of human pranks.

At last he freed the object entirely, and the fastening fell away with a faint little noise. The bow, dislodged, fell too—and stopped halfway. One of the long streamers on the bottom had caught firmly between two plates of armor. Ratchet groaned. 

“Optimus, I’m going to need you to transform back,” he said. “I think that should dislodge it.”

Optimus’s field flickered amused, and he obliged. 

The ribbon was not dislodged. 

That same streamer caught between the same plates of armor, and the bow itself described a long arc before coming to rest in the center of Optimus’s ventral armor.

Directly above his interface array. 

Optimus looked down at it with an expression of faint surprise, and then back at Ratchet with a twist of mischief to his field. 

“You don’t have to find excuses to get my attention, you know,” said Ratchet, hard-put to keep any sort of reproof in his tone. 

“I assure you that the difficulty was entirely genuine,” said Optimus. “However, its resolution is particularly fortuitous, as I was about to point out that the children took the others to admire the light displays associated with the holiday, and are not expected back for several hours at least.”

A look of dawning discomfort crossed his faceplates, and he added, “Additionally, I believe I have just located the bow’s fastening and would appreciate the opportunity to remove it as soon as possible.”


End file.
